Effervescence
by GRDaluiseau
Summary: Moira O'Deorain makes a return to her home of genetic accolades in the Middle East, hoping for some freelance research. However, what she finds in her own doings gives her more information then she desired... Rated M for classy-sounding smut.


The Minister of Genetics in the highly prestiged Oasis, Moira O'Deorain, had made a temporary return to her grounds of research that brought her to her many controversial accolades, figuring a break from everything that Talon had integrated itself into was past overdue. Truth be told, Moira never actually envisioned herself as a crucial factor of the terrorist regime's plans-she was merely using it as a catalyst for her own advances. With the subjects of war and manipulation being placed heavily at its forefront, the methodical practitioner needed time off to collect her thoughts.

"Ah, Miss O'Deorain. We've been expecting you. Please, step in." An omnic limousine attendant greeted at the front of an Iraqi airport. Moira, thoroughly exhausted during her travels, and only just arriving from her flight a few minutes ago, wanted to do anything but talk with anyone. "Here's my baggage. Please do be careful with it." was all she said, in a raspy tone.

The geneticist bestowed her suitcase to the attendant and slowly slid into the limo, clasping her temples. It had been one of her least enjoyable endeavors since administering medical services to an extremely ungrateful Sombra after a mission, and that was not a moment Moira wanted to relive. All she wanted was some peace and quiet for at least one night, longing for the very idea more and more as the humming of the limousine's engine did nothing but add to her headache.

Several minutes passed by, dragging on Moira's discontentedness with her surroundings, the sunlight piercing her eyes, and the slight vibrations of the moving limousine adding to her visible frustration. The driver had noticed her discomfort, and felt obligated to offer help. "Miss O'Deorain? You aren't looking well. May I offer you a water?"

"If it's anything like the swill I was served on the plane, kindly keep it away from me." Moira deadpanned, looking up at the ceiling of the interior, hoping vainly for some solace from the abundant light. "Madame, I assure you, our water is of the highest quality and purity. I insist." A motorized tray popped out to the passenger area, with a small bottle of water and two painkiller capsules on top. Reluctantly, she took them, but savored the water, rubbing the cool bottle on her forehead. It was the first brief moment of satisfaction she had, but it was cut off by the limousine stopping.

The unethical doctor had made it to the hotel where she had a reservation set up. She arose from her seat and stepped out from her ride, being greeted with a presence of unpleasant dry heat. Moira's face scrunched up in displeasure as she reached for her luggage and staggered her way into the hotel lobby, refusing any more services from the omnic assistant in hopes to stop her pain from dragging on. "These things must have some restraint programmed into them.", she thought.

Moira's bout of personal hell had finally met its end after the front desk receptionist handed her a room card. "Please, enjoy your stay!" The receptionist said in an overly joyous tone, which was met with a dead stare from the geneticist who slowly walked away from him, as she personally hoped that she didn't have to put up with such sugary nonsense like that during her vacation.

At last, she was inside her room. Even the couch in the main sitting area was a sight for sore eyes, as Moira practically draped herself over it, happy to fall asleep for a while. For the first time in a long time, the geneticist's mind had cleared up, free to decide her own priorities.

Hours passed by, and Moira remained sound asleep, until a slight chill enveloped her body, awakening her. She had little sustenance throughout her arduous journey, and not having eaten anything made it hard for her to keep warm. Succumbing to hunger, she arose from the velvet couch in search of food. Momentarily, she failed to realize how dark it had become, almost stumbling over her own feet. Annoyed, the doctor fumbled around in the darkness until she came across what felt like a lamp. Streams of light finally cascaded the room when she located a switch, giving way to a fruit basket perched upon the center table.

"Hm. At least the staff hasn't forgotten my personal preferences." quipped Moira, slightly amused at the selection the hotel had left for her, especially at the dubious inclusion of blood oranges. "Notably these… I hope these were cared for adequately…" She personally savored them, the way the succulent and sweet juices flowed upon each bite. It had been too long since she could treat herself to fresh produce like this, as both Talon and the ministry of Oasis never went out of the way to supply such a luxury-all the organizations ever had on hand were copious amounts of grains, dried food, and flavorless teas for the sake of easy storage.

Wasting no time to delve into the fruit with the scarlet insides, Moira used her long fingernails to pierce the hardened flesh and began to eat at the soft, tart pieces of the orange. Every bite she took was a moment of sheer decadence, leaving her yearning for more. She eagerly consumed every drop and fiber until just the peel remained, unraveled in her left hand. There were three more still in the basket, ripe for the taking. "Another…" she spoke in a somewhat sultry tone, grabbing a second blood orange without a pause. Just like the first fruit, every bit was enjoyed until it couldn't be enjoyed anymore. The enzymes inside the dark juicy slices of citrus started to trigger suppressed excitement within the late-40s doctor.

In the moment after finishing the second blood orange, Moira had forgotten about whether she intended to isolate these feelings of enthralled pleasure or simply neglected herself of them by accident, but that concept held no merit to her now. The redhead was feeling more thrill than she ever recalled having before, and as if acting on impulse alone, began to engage in something she hadn't even dreamt of in years.

Moira licked up the last of the juices that remained on the back of her hand, with many thoughts of scandalous nature clouding her mind, before a rude awakening brought them all to a halt, much to her chagrin. "These damn nails…!", she hissed. "Of everything I foresaw, this had to be the one thing to ruin me!" There was so little a variety of activities she could try out with her long, tapered fingernails posing a hazard to her vitals. Fueled by passion and lust-driven impatience, the geneticist made usage of her biotic vessels and summoned their energy; forcefully snapping the nails off her left hand without a second thought. The Irish geneticist then tossed aside her blazer and business pants, now down to a dark grey brassiere and pair of slipshorts. Now free to resume her previous ambitions, she took three of her left fingers and crudely lubricated them inside the confines of her mouth, as she used her right hand to irritably force her slipshorts down past her hips, giving way to her pale-skinned nether regions.

Moira's pleading body couldn't bear any more waiting, so she began with her index finger, slowly easing it inside the mauve-colored orifice between her buttocks. Immediately, her body began trembling from the pleasure, followed by short, hushed moans. Ethical conundrums regarding the other hotel tenants clashed with her lust-driven conscience, but they were aptly ignored as the doctor began to cast aside her inhibitions in favor of the arousal overcoming her. The sensations she felt got steadily more intense with every motion her finger could do, although her desires were not yet satisfied. "Give me more, damn it!" Eventually, the aroused redhead inserted her middle and ring fingers inside her pleasured rectum, and when doing so, a much louder cry of passion had drawn out from her. The satisfaction from her anal masturbation completely nullified her composure, as she allowed herself to become one with her excitement.

A handful of neighboring rooms were awakened by Moira's wails of ecstasy, with several people coming out to the hall, trying to find out where the loud noises were coming from. Nobody had any idea where the source of the whole act was, and members of the hotel's front desk were called for assistance as more and more tenants were waking up to unwanted noise at such a late hour.

The experimental scientist was fully oblivious to everything going on now. She'd even thrown away her concerns towards what her nails would do to her body, as two fingers from her right hand were vigorously encircling her bald vagina, while her entire left hand was completely within her rectum at this point. Her moans were full blown screams at this point, and rather high-pitched ones at that. It was unlike any sound she'd ever made before. "I'm going to faint, someone's going to see this!", she thought in the midst of her enraptured bliss, unsure of how much longer she could hold herself from climaxing. Her mind and heart were racing, and every pore of her body vibrated. The tension in the moment was growing fiercely.

Meanwhile, the confused and frustrated crowd of people were still trying to figure out exactly what was happening. All of the staff for the night shift were present, collectively befuddled at the whole series of events. "Who the hell could be doing all of this?", one member said out loud. "Did we let anyone suspicious in?", asked another. Nobody could find out the source of this disturbance, and in fear of bad publicity, the staff had resorted to checking all the rooms on every floor.

The front desk receptionist from earlier was the only one that was on the same floor as Moira's room, two floors below where the congregation of unhappy people took place. Despite having a cheerful demeanor, the man was greatly annoyed that such an occurrence had to happen at this hour. Hesitating no longer, he began to unlock every closed room on the floor, slowly closing in on O'Deorain's whereabouts.

The doctor's climax seemed impossible for her to reach, as every motion she took only teased her body even more. All she wanted was to experience her body's sweet release from all her stress; all her mental dissatisfaction. In an act of desperation, she spread her vagina as wide as her trembling fingers could, and stuck her middle fingernail into her urethral opening. A few quick jolts inside the delicate passage in tandem with one more shove from her left hand pushing wrist-deep into her anus, had garnered her loudest, longest moan yet, as Moira's orgasm had finally been reached. Her nipples began lactating all over the silk couch she had slept on earlier, and a torrent of vaginal fluids was shooting out of her like a waterfall, spraying across the carpet.

At the same moment where Moira's final crescendo of pleasure took place, the man from the front desk was at her room, hearing the noise more vividly than anyone else could. Once he heard it, all he could feel was shock and disgust, and he was prepared to get someone evicted if he had to. He firmly approached the door with his master key in hand. Moira faintly heard the lock mechanism rattling as she knelt over, breathless, in her post-orgasmic glow. Instantly, humility and a sense of decency shot into her as her eyes widened in a rare state of fear while the door was creaking open. "Oh, damn it all-!"

"That's quite enough! You've woken up so many people on the lower floors!", the receptionist bellowed, staring intently at the entrance of the room. He walked in to confront the individual inside, ready to call up the other staff members for an eviction. "I'm going to have to require your immediate depart-", he started, but was cut off from the realization of what was left in the main area. Streams of mysterious fluids, a fading wisp of black vapor, and a series of frantic breaths being heard. His feelings of annoyance and revulsion quickly changed to horror and disbelief. With much reluctance, the receptionist checked the other parts of the room, much less confident than before. No presence in the head bedroom, nor the closet next to it.

The experimental scientist faded away to take cover in her bathroom, breathless and overwrought with panic. The reality of the situation and its possible aftermath hit Moira like an oncoming train, and she was curled up, feeling helpless. "Is this how it ends…?" she thought, wearily. Everything she ever worked for, potentially jeopardized in a matter of days, weeks at most. She couldn't envision herself living like that. With utmost caution, she peered through the slit of the bathroom door, wondering exactly what she confronted with. Once the receptionist was in her vision, her fear faded away and a smug expression formed on her face.

"So, the grinning buffoon returns." murmured Moira. She was already savoring the uncertainty of the man who seemed so committed just moments ago. The change of atmosphere made her grow even bolder, as she had a devilish plan for this annoyance. She materialized back out to the room, and stealthily got behind the man, now devoid of her slipshorts.

Everywhere he looked, no presence showed itself. The man was visibly trembling with fear, and he didn't want to stick around for too much longer. The presence of the black smoke had him inching carefully towards the exit of the room, fearing that any sudden movement would trigger it again. Time slowed down to a crawl, and the silence was deafening. All the while, Moira was slowly advancing right behind him, ready to initiate her plan. When he eventually got within arm's reach of the doorknob, the next thing the man knew was that he heard a faint flapping sound, and that a hand with long purple fingernails lurched over his head and obscured his vision.

The front desk receptionist tried to fight the hand off and make his escape, but the geneticist had her plan to carry out. Using her biotic vessels in right hand, she began to drain to his energy minimally enough to lower his resistance and prevent him from running away. All he could do now was wonder just what the hell was happening to him and why it had to be him, of all people. Then, the silence was finally broken when the scientist brushed up against his backside and whispered to him "Would you like to be part of my latest contribution to science…?" in a slightly deranged-sounding manner.

Back in the hall on the floor where many people were still outside their rooms regarding the debacle below, they were in for more unwanted noise. A loud, hysteric shriek followed by frantic footsteps was gradually getting louder as a figure was exiting the staircase at the back end of the hall at breakneck speed. It was the receptionist, stricken pale with raw fear. " **GHOST! GHOOOOOST!** " was all he said, not stopping to explain what he witnessed. Some of the patrons became alarmed, some were dumbfounded, and others just returned to their rooms in hopes of getting back to sleep. The hotel staff was at a loss for words, wanting only for their night to end.

The geneticist's plan had worked too well, as she broke into a fit of laughter. She was certain that she at least wouldn't have to put up with the receptionist's overly sappy nature for the duration of her time off. Eventually, her joy came to a halt when the reality of the moment hit her again. The state of her room was still subpar, with the pungent aroma of her juices practically slapping her in the face. "Right. I still need an explanation for this." Not wasting another second being enraptured in her amusement, she took a robe from the room's one closet and hastily retreated.

Some members of the hotel's staff finally pinpointed the room of the offending actions that took place roughly an hour ago by now, and made their way to its entrance. Needless to say, their reactions were on par of that of the receptionist; none of them were thrilled by it in the slightest. A figure entered the room, clearing their throat, alerting the staff to their presence. One of them became mortified when they noticed who it was. "M-Miss O'Deorain? This is _your_ room?" Feigning ignorance, Moira dryly retorted, "I should certainly hope so. Don't tell me some reservation snafu popped up, I haven't the patience for something like that right now."

"Well, uh, no…" the staff member responded, worriedly. "It looks like someone may have invited themselves in and… um…" The slender scientist was secretly enjoying the disdain of the hotel staff, revelling in their cluelessness and fear. She even thought about horrifying the whole lot of them with an act even more daring than her last performance in the hotel, but decided not to for now. One ecstasy trip was enough. Returning back from her thoughts to hear the unsure man finish his scattered observation, Moira then pursed her lips and snapped "So you're suggesting I somehow played a part in this act of primal display? A very bold claim, but mostly unwise." The entire gathering of hotel staff starting to feel incredibly uneasy, worried that a prestigious contributor to Oasis was unsatisfied with their service. Another stepped up in a fit of panic, hoping to quell the situation, and reluctantly offered, "We hope that you won't consider ending your stay with us so soon. We'll find the person responsible and bring them to justice on our own accord. In the meantime, please allow us to clear up this mess and give you some complementary benefits."

The geneticist continued her two-faced act, pretending to consider the offer given to her in a way she normally would. Purposefully drawing out the silence, she waited until one of the staff members would step up to break it. "Miss O'Deorain?" one of them piped up. Exactly what she wanted to hear. "The fact you are trying to curry my favor with simple intricacies like a free massage is very desperate on your account." The staff, again, got collectively worried at her supposed dissatisfaction with the matter at hand, but before any conclusions could be made, Moira resumed after another intentional pause, "However, I do understand the weight of your plight, and considering that I myself have been through an endeavor which was not at all to my enjoyment, I'll humor your offer. Do not disappoint me." She then turned away and walked off, ignoring the thankful gestures the staff left her as they got to work to fix the poor condition of the room.

Inside a dimly-lit lounge, the abnormal physician was sitting, dwelling on her entire rigmarole she put out. While she was personally embarrassed for allowing herself to succumb to animalistic desires, she couldn't simply deny how much she enjoyed immersing herself in them. It engaged her interests as a scientist unlike any other bit of research did-she almost instantly became obsessed with the idea of neurological enhancements, and an act of personal thrill like hers was the perfect catalyst. There was only one problem that still faced her.

She lacked the referential figures to start any hypotheses. There were still plenty of experiments that Moira had felt necessary to perform on herself before using anyone else as a guinea pig for her perverted exploration.


End file.
